


Make Like a Winchester and Stand Up for Something

by herbailiwick



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-12
Updated: 2014-03-12
Packaged: 2018-01-15 11:15:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1302865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/herbailiwick/pseuds/herbailiwick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam was just trying to brush his teeth, and Dean was just trying to take a shower. <i>Written 03/08/13.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Like a Winchester and Stand Up for Something

**Author's Note:**

  * For [EHyde](https://archiveofourown.org/users/EHyde/gifts).



"Hey, remember when you were finding all those heavenly weapons?"

Sam, having jumped about a freaking foot when a voice he thought he'd never hear again started speaking, when a presence was announced with the flap of wings, turned around, dripping tooth brush in hand, mouth full of spit, and stared at Gabriel.

Sam blinked, and Gabriel sort of tilted his head. "Rinse and spit," he finally suggested. Quickly, Sam turned back to the sink and spit, rinsing his brush, frowning at the faucet then up at his own reflection, slowly bringing his gaze to meet the gaze of Gabriel's reflection.

"Okay, like I was saying," Gabriel said, stepping toward Sam a little. "Do you remember a couple years ago, when Purgatory was starting to shake things up and Castiel was...you know what, Sam, I don't even know how to describe what was going on there."

Sam slowly turned, leaning back against the counter slightly as he said, "Yeah. I remember. You...you were alive?"

Gabriel shrugged. 

"No, sorry. You were alive, like...you could have helped us get my soul back?"

"Hey." Gabriel spread his hands out in front of him with a shrug. "I was off the radar at the time, and I wasn't exactly tuned into the Talk Radio in the Sky. Alright?"

"Alright," Sam said, relaxing a little. 

"Good kid like you, losing your soul?" Gabriel whistled. "Still, I hear that you gave it your best, and considering how stubborn you are, your best had to be pretty good." He smiled a little, and Sam didn't return it.

"Look, um." Sam moved over to his bed and sat down, looking up at Gabriel. "Heavenly weapon, right? What's going on?"

"Someone stole my horn of truth."

Sam frowned slightly, remembering through the odd filter his soulless memories seemed to have. "Oh. Um. That...sucks. Yeah, I remember. But, what do you want me to do about it? No offense, but you don't really seem to need us."

Gabriel walked across the room to sit on the other bed, facing Sam. "I do need you," he said. "I think the horn is being used in Heaven, against the angels. And that's not cool. I don't report to those S.O.B.s, but I don't want them causing trouble with _my_ horn. That's stolen goods." 

"So you need us...why?"

"Because you're smart, and I trust you guys," Gabriel said. "And you guys want to help Castiel."

Sam cautiously nodded, which made Gabriel smile.

"Good. I mean, I'm not exactly pleased with him," he winced, "but I'm not losing anyone else, Sam. I can't."

"How many have you lost?" Sam asked carefully, awed to see Gabriel's expression shutter, to see the archangel wrap his arms around himself and look up at Sam with a sorrow that Sam didn't know if he could match.

"I'm worried about Heaven," Gabriel said. "I've seen bloodshed. I've seen disputes, and wars, and mind games and set-ups and suicide missions and torture. Though," he sighed, "I'm preaching to the choir, considering."

Sam's eyes widened for a moment. He coughed awkwardly, not really ready to talk about the Cage. In fact, he never talked about Cage.

"That stuff was bad," Gabriel continued. "You used to be able to hear the multitudes sing together despite it, though. But now? No one really sings anymore, Sam. No one." His voice caught on that for a moment. "Without my dad running the place...Raphael and Castiel have been wiping out our race, and I'm tired.  And we're not all bad, Sam. We're not all like Lucifer," he winced as he admitted it. "Some of us heal and right wrongs and bring justice and comfort people in times of need, so this means something." He swallowed, looking down at his hands for a moment.

Sam stayed silent and let some time pass between the two of them. He watched Gabriel struggle not to cry. 

"You need my help?" Sam finally prompted.

"Yeah," sniffed Gabriel. "Uh. Yeah. We need to take back my horn. We need to stop Naomi, or whoever's pulling her strings. I need your help. And, from the state of you, I think you could use my help too." 

Sam flushed a little, looking away. "Uh. Yeah. If you could manage it."

"Probably. Dad's trials, huh? Hm."

Just then the shower stopped, and Sam motioned for Gabriel to stay on Dean's bed, rising to make sure Dean found out about Gabriel in as gentle a manner as possible.

"We're in if Dean says were in," Sam said.

Gabriel nodded like he thought that was fair, and, well, he'd know.


End file.
